


Riders of the Storm

by damnedapostate (ethydium)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Arguing, Assholes to Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Unexpected gentleness, bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethydium/pseuds/damnedapostate
Summary: They are both assholes. Petty and jealous. But are they truly angry at each other?It’s an exploration of their problems and how it translates into the modern world.





	Riders of the Storm

Anders angered Fenris, of course he did. It was nothing new that he had this effect on people. His dad, his teachers at the Chantry’s School, his bullies.

Fury was like a wildfire, but he was good at controlling it. Not like jealousy, that he couldn't handle.

So making Fenris furious at him was like child’s play. It was easier to turn Fenris’ attention on himself when Hawke was so obviously reserving hers for Merrill. And her only.

It stung a little, because if someone said they didn’t fancy they were either lying or dead. And Anders chose making Fenris angry as his consolation prize.

One night, when Hawke left the Hanged Man with stars in her eyes and Merrill at her side, Anders couldn't help but antagonise Fenris. It was only fair after Fenris told him he knew some mages who deserved to be turned tranquil. The asshole.

“Turn down the puppy eyes, Fenris,” he murmured with a smug grin. Fenris’ eyes flashed at him immediately. Oh, he felt guilty! “Merrill has already beat you in the favourite elf department.”

“Fuck you,” said Fenris, but the sting wasn't unusual. It was as if Fenris wasn't even trying anymore.

“It's a good thing you left her, you know.” Anders was completely aware how Fenris felt about leaving Hawke in the middle of the night. “She's always been too soft on you.”

Fenris ground his teeth, but he couldn't let it go. He never could. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“She let you get away with your hateful comments because of your pretty face.”

“And why do you think she suffers your delusional ideas?” he bit back immediately.

“At least people don't have to lie to me to spare my feelings.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, but I do.” He did not. “And your pining is disgusting. I pity you.”

“You take that back,” said Fenris, putting his glass on the table with slightly more force.

Anders always envied Fenris about this. He was always so controlled, never letting go of his feelings. This was why he made such a good challenge.

“I won't,” Anders replied in a singsong voice, leaning back in his seat with a wide grin. “Get over yourself. You wouldn't really like someone nice.”

“So what? Should I rather choose a terrible asshole?”

“Yes. To match your personality.”

“Are you offering _yourself_?”

Anders opened his mouth, then promptly close it. “I'm not an asshole.”

Fenris snickered. “You're the biggest asshole in Kirkwall, Anders.”

“Lies and slander,” murmured Anders, hiding his grin in his watered down cider. They really were the biggest assholes in the city.

“So… Following your logic, I should hit you up, shouldn't I?”

“This isn't what I said. And don't even try it, I'm resistant to your,” Anders outlined his frame with his hands. “alleged charms.”

“Alleged,” snickered Fenris. “And you're a pretty gift with a bow.” He eyed his crumpled scrubs under an old hoodie with obvious distaste.

“It's what under these that counts.” Fenris blinked at him with obvious doubt. “If you had seen me naked, you'd be on a different opinion.”

Fenris held his gaze longer than he had ever done before. Anders felt his throat dry out, but he wasn't about to admit to bluffing. “So?” he asked in challenge.

“So what?”

“Do you want to see what's under these robes?” Fenris lowered his glass again, and for a moment Anders hoped he'd frown and shake his head, and let him get away with the teasing.

But then Fenris looked up again, and said curtly. “Yes.”

Anders hadn't backed down from a challenge in all his life. So he wasn't about to start now.

“Then let's get out of here.”

*

“Where are you going?” asked Fenris.

Anders turned back to him, and pointed at the bus stop. He was about to say something mean about mage wages and not being able to afford a taxi, when Fenris raised his hand and jingled his keys.

“I'm not sitting behind you,” stated Anders immediately.

Fenris’ mouth irked up. “Afraid of bikes?”

“Afraid of crashing with a drunk idiot, yeah.”

Fenris blinked at him. “I only drank Coke, _idiot_. I wouldn't endanger anyone.”

“Oh.” Anders suddenly felt like an utter fool.

“Oh, indeed,” murmured Fenris, and headed to his bike with long strides, not looking back to see if Anders followed him or not.

But of course Anders did. Still, his pride stung a little. Fenris was so awfully sure of himself, it made Anders’ blood boil.

Still, he sat behind Fenris, and even circled Fenris’ waist with his hands.

“Try to not get us both killed,” said Anders, as habit dictated.

Fenris turned back - suddenly bringing their faces awfully close.

“I promise I won't.”

*

It was exhilarating, and Anders wanted to hate it on principle, but he couldn't. He experienced it a lot with Fenris.

*

“So, was it that bad?” asked Fenris in front of Anders’ building.

“Yes. _Horrible_.”

But Fenris smirk told Anders he wasn't fooling anyone.

“You're a terrible liar, mage.”

*

Anders let Fenris in, and delighted in having him almost trip over an overexcited Pounce.

“Oh, watch out for the cat,” he said smugly and received a dark look for it. “I thought elves had great vision in the dark.”

“And I thought I'd never see an inside of a mage’s flat willingly.”

That shut Anders up right away. For the moment at least. He didn't turn on the lights, because there was enough light from the street lamps. And that way it wasn't that obvious that his place was a dump.

“Do you want anything? I have… Water and cat food.”

Fenris rolled his eyes. “Where's the washroom?”

“Second door to your right.”

Anders watched until Fenris found the door, and disappeared behind it.

“Come, Pounce, let's feed you, you starving beast, you.”

 

*

 

Fenris washed his hands, and combed his hair with his fingers. Then he caught himself.

He wasn't trying to appeal to Anders, oh no, he definitely wasn't. This wasn't a date, only a way to close the gaping void in his chest. Just for a little while. Until he felt a little more real in his skin, not like a cursed ghost.

 

He raised his chin high and went back to the small kitchen. Anders was just closing the fridge. In the weird light this situation felt even more unreal. Anders seemed just as intangible as he felt, standing in an old sweater with a grumpy cat face in the middle.

 

“Hey,” Anders said, breaking the silence, just as he always did.

“Are you afraid of silence?” Fenris asked with a sneer, walking close to him.

“Guess I am, yes,” Anders confessed nonchalantly.

“You don't have to be with me,” Fenris said, standing in front of Anders, closer than he ever dared to. He's always been anxious to get too close to Anders. He didn't know if he could step away ever again from the magnetic pull.

“Figures you'd like to have the mage tacit and silent.” Anders leaned in, angling his body to accommodate to Fenris’, still he was immediately on the offensive, and Fenris sighed. Why did they always end up here?

“I didn't say that. It's just…” Momentarily he was lost for words. It was always an ongoing argument with Anders, it seemed. “You don't have to fill the pauses with chatter. I don't mind silence.” Anders still looked angry, and Fenris didn't want this thing between them to go down that road. Sometimes the debates have to be put on hold.

“What do you propose? Should we fill in with something else?” There was something vulgar about the way Anders said that. But before Fenris could guess at the meaning, Anders pushed himself flush against his body. Fenris hugged him instinctively, desperate for his warmth.

Fenris didn't deem it necessary to answer, and he had enough of stumbling on his own words, letting Anders find leverage on innocent expressions.

 

So he pulled Anders face close and kissed his lips once, just barely touching their lips together. It was enough of question. He pulled back and Anders followed him without question, stealing another kiss.

Fenris hadn't registered the movement, until his back gently hit a wall. It was shockingly cold compared to Anders’ incredible heat, and he gasped into the kiss.

“Bed, yes, bed,” murmured Anders, his brain catching up to him. “Let me show you my bed.”

He pulled Fenris towards the living room, the only other room in the flat, with the lone bed in the corner.

“I swear it's more comfortable than it looks,” he babbled, and didn't see Fenris’ eyes roll. “But I'd definitely make it more comfortable for you, serah,” he grinned at Fenris widely.

Fenris couldn't help his answering grin. “You promised to get out of these hideous clothes,” he said then, pulling at the edge of the grey sweater. Or was it blue? It might have been green a decade ago.

Anders mock gasped, putting his hands on his heart. “You wound me! Disrespecting my trademark getting laid attire.”

Fenris blinked at him with honest mortification. “You can't be serious. Has this ever worked for you?”

“It did just now, didn't it?” Anders asked with a wicked smile.

Fenris’ anguished whine was drowned by Anders enthusiastic kiss, because he seriously thought it wasn't polite to mock one's partner just before getting lucky.

 

Anders pulled back, still more amused than he had any right to be, and quickly shed his clothes.

He was so efficient and fast, Fenris couldn't help but stare, half out of his shirt. And there was nothing erotic about it. What would happen if Anders tried to give him a show? How would his heart handle that?

“And what about you? Those jeans might be flattering on your ass, but they still need to come off at one point.”

Fenris wanted to ask about just how flattering Anders found his ass, he really did. But then Anders fingers were at his crotch, unzipping his pant with practiced ease, and he promptly forgot every word in Trade.

Anders pushed down his underclothes, and Fenris promptly kicked them away. There was nothing more between them, no cloth worn like an armour to hide his skin.

He was prepared for some comment. Nasty or awed, he'd heard them all. But Anders, miraculously, remained silent. He wasn't even staring at his body, no. He gently coaxed his eyes off the floor, and kissed him playfully.

Fenris suddenly felt like being in a dream. He hadn't anticipated this. He expected remarks, lewd and slightly arrogant ones, but instead it was all kisses, unexpectedly gentle ones.

It felt like falling into another reality altogether. One where they didn’t overcome their own frustration by biting into each other constantly.

So Fenris decided to throw everything he had known out about Anders out. And just go with the flow. It seemed regular ideas and thoughts had no meaning in the quiet of Anders’ flat.

 

Anders sat on the bed and pulled Fenris on top of him, and Fenris felt drunk and high at the same time, and without the sick feeling that generally accompanied using too much of.

He kissed Anders, deeply, now that the angle was in his favour, and ground their pelvises together.

Anders gripped his hips tightly, encouraging him further and pulling him closer and closer, until there was nothing, not even air between their heated skin.

Fenris secretly waited for the moment to come, and dreaded it a lot, when Anders would have enough of this easy game and flip them over, use magic and be terribly cruel. But it never happened.

Anders laid beneath him, legs intertwined with his, whimpering into the kiss, having his hands wander around Fenris’ body and caress and grope and grip, but never grab.

Fenris pulled away, just a little, to kiss and lick at Anders jaw and to find out if his stubble would chafe him or rub him just right.

It turned out to be the latter.

When Fenris let his sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin below his ears, Anders’ uncharacteristic silence broke.

“Yes, yes, _please_ ,” he moaned silently, and Fenris couldn't find it in himself to deny Anders.

He gripped Anders’ thigh, pulled it up around his hips to trust against him with more leverage.

Anders’ hand came up to his and he laced their fingers together, then held it down against the bed over Anders’ head.

Anders was beautiful stretched out under him, eyes heavy lidded but always watching him, never leaving his face, lips between his teeth.

Fenris couldn't bear it, the open rapture on mage’s face, so he hid his own into the crook of Anders’ neck, kissing the skin in apology.

Anders forgot to moan loudly and wantonly, because he was so lost in the surprising feeling of all-encompassing pleasure. It felt right and just even in his bones. He wanted to break this sudden and vast intimacy that covered them, but he got so swept away, and before he even realised it, he came with a near silent gasp.

Fenris felt it splatter on his stomach, and then Anders’ heal pushed down on his tailbone, and he followed suit. He didn't remember coming this hard and long for… Quite some time, but the thought refused to feel awkward. He felt himself smile, then he rolled to the side with a heavy, but satisfied grunt.

“Stay,” Anders whispered, but it wasn't necessary. Fenris didn't intend to move in the near future. “I'll bring the rag. You'd fell over Pounce.”

“I thought you liked that,” murmured Fenris gently.

Anders leaned over him and kissed his nose. “Everyone has to fell over him, but only once. It's the initiation ceremony.”

Fenris snickered, but put his arm over Anders neck, and pulled him down to a proper kiss. He couldn't let him go with only one.

Anders hummed, and reluctantly pulled back. “I'll be back in a moment,” he whispered.

 

Fenris stretched and snoozed a little, but Anders came back quickly, and gave him a glass of water and a warm wet rag.

Then he flopped down next to Fenris with a long sigh.

 

Fenris wiped himself clean, then let the rag fall to the ground.

“Hey,” groaned Anders, but there was no heat in his voice.

“My apologies,” Fenris replied with a smirk, without feeling sorry.

 

Anders felt the silence cover them, so innocently and fully like the first snow in December.

When he envisioned sex with Fenris - which he definitely did, there was no point in denying it any longer, it never went like this. He expected rough hands, holding him down or up or in whichever position Fenris wanted him. He thought it would be an easy way for Fenris to work out his frustration with mages on him. And… Anders wouldn't have had any problem with that.

But this? This… Gentle love making? This was scary. This was off the books, out of the world's order sex, unprecedented and illogical. This made Anders question everything.

His ideas about Fenris as a person, his own feelings… Oh, Anders didn't like this at all.

 

He should tell Fenris to get dressed and get lost. Or just ask him to go. Blame an early shift at the clinic or Justice coming over. Or he should talk about the Chantry, Tevinter Magisters, blood magic… Anything to make Fenris angry. Because that was familiar and controllable.

 

But Fenris kissed him. Even after they were finished. He hadn't been rough, he wasn't rude, he was… Nothing like Anders feared.

 

“We should talk,” Fenris murmured, and Anders’ stomach tightened.

Fenris was looking out the window, his face handsome with the lights making his features more angular.

“I failed to communicate well the last time I… Unexpectedly found myself in a friend's bed.”

Anders winced. Fenris was talking about Hawke. It was too awkward for him to continue, he desperately wished to be somewhere else. The comfortable bed now seemed like a war zone to him.

“We're not friends,” he heard himself say, and regretted it immediately. It wasn’t something you said someone whose skin still smelled like your come.

Fenris turned towards him, and he smiled a little.

“I mean, not really,” added Anders in a hurry, trying to lessen the blow.

“No, not really,” agreed Fenris. Then he fell silent. “Do you regret this?”

“No,” Anders said immediately. “Not at all. It was _good_.” As if simple words could describe what he felt with Fenris. “Do you?”

“No,” murmured Fenris. “I'd like to… Not go back to the way we were. And try to be friends.”

Anders doubted they can ever go back to that. Not when he knew how Fenris’ kisses tasted like. And how adorable he looked when he came.

“That sounds reasonable,” Anders agreed.

“Great,” Fenris murmured, and moved to sit up. Panic gripped Anders, he had to stop Fenris, but how? Should he offer him a blowjob? Or a sandwich?

But he didn't need to do any of those. Because Fenris sat up and moved to pull the covers up.

“Cuddle?” Anders asked before he could stop himself. He was so relieved Fenris wasn't leaving, even though he knew it would end horribly in the future, that he let his mouth run freely.

Fenris shrugged, and said, “We can try, but I'm a trashy sleeper.” But as he was talking he laid down and opened his arms for Anders.

“It's your only chance to hit me and get away with it,” murmured Anders as he scouted close.

“Brave of you to say that,” chuckled Fenris, hugging Anders close and arranging the covers over their bodies. “I'm still convinced in a fair fight I could take you.” Not easily or without any doubt, but still. The truth remained the same.

“First of all, you couldn't,” argued Anders without any heat, and mainly on principle.

“Second of all, I have never wanted to hit you,” continued Fenris, smirking into Anders hair.

Anders blinked rapidly. That was not what he thought. And all these years, he was mistaken. How could he be this wrong about a person for almost seven years?

“Never?” he asked, true disbelief ringing from that one word.

“I wished for you to lose your voice,” Fenris admitted, then yawned softly. “But I never wanted to hit you, no.”

Anders bit his lips to muffle his relieved sigh.

“Did you?” Anders expected the question. He received it from Hawke before. She worried they might get into a serious brawl once, and it would turn ugly quickly.

Anders hummed out a no. “I just wanted to bite you.”

“That's mutual,” Fenris whispered, and his breath tickled Anders’ ear. Oh, yes, Anders could still feel the memory of Fenris’ teeth on his collarbone. It would soon turn into a cherished memory.

**Author's Note:**

> I have some ideas of how this should continue, but for now, I'd consider this done. I'm curious about the reception.
> 
> Tell me if you wanted more from this au.
> 
> Come hang out w me @damnedapostate.tumblr.com


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